The Accident
by kingdomheartsforevs
Summary: His eyes fluttered open. I could hear him choking on his own voice as he whispered, delicately: "Y'know, this is going to sound so weird - I have no idea who you are, but I love your eyes." Blood. Shonen-ai. USUK.


_A/N: _Yes, I got this from a Facebook like thingy. I thought the story was so sad, yet touching, and I had to use it. 'Cause I'm a loser. It's supposed to be a one-shot, but it can become multi-chaptered through popular demand. I already have an entire plot running through my head. :D

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Hetalia: Axis Powers, nor the characters Arthur Kirkland and Alfred F. Jones. Hetalia © 2008 Hidekaz Himaruya. I really don't own this sob story either, no matter how much I wish I did. It's beautiful.

WARNING!: This has been turned into a yaoi. Boy love. Homosexual. If you're a yaoi hater, I don't wanna hear about how I "hate heterosexual love" or whatever. I just thought it'd be cute as a yaoi, 'kay?  
>This is also Hetalia. If you're a Heta-Hater, leave. Because I absolutely will not tolerate you.<p>

* * *

><p>Alfred and I met in middle school. We were best friends.<p>

He always told me he loved my eyes. I never quite knew why.

I was in love with him, so of course my face lit right up whenever he said it.

He was handsome, kind, and a kind of goofy that was self-created just to make people laugh.

We would be talking about absolutely nothing, and he would suddenly turn to me and state, sincerely:

_"I love your eyes."_

One day, I sat in my house, waiting for him to drive over to watch a movie with me.

I got a phone call.

It was his mother. She sounded as if in a panic.

I couldn't quite understand what she was saying, but as I tried to process, it came out as:

"Arthur, quickly! Alfred, accident, Main Street - too much blood!" Her voice cracked as she let out a short sob. "Come _now!_"

My jaw slackened and, though I had no idea what had happened, it could not have been good.

I ran the short distance from my home to Main Street, still in my leisurewear.

I saw Alfred's mother, helplessly crying, waiting for the ambulance long-since-called to arrive.

I saw a mangled, unrecognizable lump of metal - Alfred's blue Mustang - smushed into the front of a heavy-duty Ford. There was blood splattered in various places around the wreckage - all over Alfred's windshield...

Then I saw him. Alfred.

My heart sputtered to an abrupt stop as I broke into a frantic sprint towards his body.

His twisted, cracked glasses sent broken glass into my feet, but I couldn't register the pain.

"Alfred? Alfred!" He did not respond. Just lay there, like a twit. I was bawling. "Would you _look at me_, you insufferable -"

Before I could get out my frustrated insult, I was shoved aside by the paramedics, taking Alfred away like angels with a soul.

Blood was seeping, dripping through his matted, blond hair - that annoying cowlick actually sitting against his head for once...

I sat there, on my knees, uncomprehending of the world around me; of my own emotions.

I sat there and sobbed.

* * *

><p>I went to the hospital that night - I went every night. Actually, the only times I ever left were to get food, and even then, I never managed to keep any of it down.<p>

The doctors attempted moving me, getting me to leave. I adamantly refused.

It was all my fault.

If it hadn't been for me, convincing him to come over for a petty movie night, this never would have happened.

Four days passed, and he didn't so much as blink.

On the fifth day, his eyes tentatively fluttered open.

"A-Alfred?" I whispered hoarsely, disbelieving.

He was floating between reality and a dream; he probably hadn't even heard me.

Abruptly, doctors and nurses flooded in around me, hurriedly warning me to stay outside until they performed a psych-check.

I did - albeit, impatiently - for a few hours.

A doctor finally emerged solemnly from the room, saying:

"It has come to my understanding that you are Alfred's close friend - Arthur, was it?"

"Yes," I choked out.

The very generic-looking doctor bit his chapped lip.

"He's woken; he's fine, but... I'm afraid he's suffered long-term memory loss."

I gaped at him, eyes narrowing into a venomous look. "Are you bloody _mad?_" I almost shouted. "That's not quite _fine,_is it?"

He smiled wryly. "I suppose not."

I didn't meet his gaze. I couldn't.

It became apparent to him that I wasn't going to respond further, so he began again.

"You may go to see him, but he doesn't remember a thing - not even his mother."

I scu_f_fled in, trembling in terror and anticipation.

I saw him. He looked peaceful yet fragile as he slept – rather than that restless look he had while in his coma-like state - but I yearned to shake him awake. _You've been asleep five days!_ I wanted to shout. _Isn't this a rather elaborate prank you've decided to play on me, you git?  
><em>  
>However, I kept reminding myself that this wasn't a cruel joke - the bloody gauze wrapped thickly around his head was proof enough.<p>

I took his hand in both of mine, gripping it so tightly that, if he were awake, he would have complained of pain.

I wanted for seemingly an eternity, until I saw his eyes crack open again.

I expected doctors to swarm in, rushing me out as they had before.

Instead, he looked me straight in the face, blinked at me owlishly and whispered, delicately:

"Y'know, this is going to sound so creepy," I could hear him nearly choking on his own voice. "I have no idea who you are, but...

"I love your eyes."

* * *

><p><em>AN:_

Yup, I'mma jerk. I nearly killed Alfred.

I friggin' _love _Alfred. I didn't want to hurt him. ;A;

IT'S NECESSARY TO THE PLOT, I SWEAR TTATT


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